


Give Me A Call

by orphan_account



Series: Rule 63 Combeferre/Courfeyrac Filth [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Phone Sex, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre pulled her teeth over her lower lip, eyes moving to where her best friend waited at the counter. She shifted in her seat, feeling the familiar twist of arousal begin to moisten the jean fabric between her legs. “But you’re willing to call me while I’m meeting with Enjolras?” </p><p>“Wanted your voice,” Courfeyrac said, then let out a louder moan that made Combeferre’s eyelashes flutter. “Wanted to pretend you’re watching me, telling me what to do. How to touch myself.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me A Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [space_radio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_radio/gifts).



“I believe that-“ Combeferre felt her phone buzz on the cafe table, and her fiancé’s selfie appeared, with the label “Antoinette” followed by a couple of heart emojis.

Enjolras waved their hand. “Take it, take it. I have to get a refill anyways.” They stood and made their way back to the counter with their empty mug.

Combeferre picked up her phone and answered Courfeyrac’s call, allowing herself to smile in a private way. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Darling,” Courfeyrac said. Her voice was pitched higher than usual. “There’s currently binder clips on my nipples and three fingers in my pussy. Care to comment?”

“I. What? You. Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to wait for you to come back and help me.”

Combeferre pulled her teeth over her lower lip, eyes moving to where her best friend waited at the counter. She shifted in her seat, feeling the familiar twist of arousal begin to moisten the jean fabric between her legs. “But you’re willing to call me while I’m meeting with Enjolras?”

“Wanted your voice,” Courfeyrac said, then let out a louder moan that made Combeferre’s eyelashes flutter. “Wanted to pretend you’re watching me, telling me what to do. How to touch myself.”

“I can’t do that right now,” Combeferre said, tone apologetic.

Courfeyrac’s laugh trailed off into a whimper. Combeferre could hear her brush against the sheets, could imagine her fiancé arching her back to coax her own fingers into the best angle. “I know… and that’s honestly just… so much hotter.”

Combeferre’s eyes found Enjolras again, and they waved, giving her a little smile. “You’re a demon.”

“You love me.” Courfeyrac let out a whine, then giggled. “Hold on. I need my vibrator.”

Combeferre frowned. Since Courfeyrac had moved in, she hadn’t needed to use any of her toys. It wasn’t that Combeferre had asked her not to, but she was usually good enough at making sure that she took care of Courfeyrac’s needs that the toys had stayed in the box under their bed, the lid collecting dust. Combeferre heard a quiet click, then a loud hum as Courfeyrac turned the vibrator on.

“What are you doing?” Combeferre said, as Courfeyrac began to pant and whimper.

Courfeyrac couldn’t speak for a moment, before saying, “it’s pressed right… right against my clit. And there’s three fingers in me, rubbing. And… clips on… Oh my god, Jeanne, please fuck me.”

“I want to,” Combeferre said. Around her, the coffee shop was bustling with casual conversation, but over the phone, her fiancé was falling apart.

“Take me,” Courfeyrac begged. The humming grew louder, and her voice became higher, breaking up as she spoke to allow whimpers to escape the filthy monologue. “Fucking hold me down and drive into me with your giant fake vibrating cock. Bite my breasts until I fucking scream, until I’m hoarse, until the neighbors call the cops or get off with their own hands from hearing how good you are to me.”

Combeferre shifted again in her seat, pressing her thighs together. “Fuck,” she said, unable to say or think anything else.

“Yes,” Courfeyrac said, almost shouting. “Fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck-” She let out a guttural wail, and Combeferre bit down hard on her lip, eyes scanning the café to see if anybody knew that her fiancé had just orgasmed, to see if anybody knew just how wet her panties had become.

“Are you okay?” Combeferre asked after the humming of Courfeyrac’s vibrator subsided.

Courfeyrac giggled, and Combeferre could imagine how she was pressing her face into the pillow, pulling her fingers out, unclipping the metal on her nipples. “So okay…” She made a wet sound with her mouth, the sound of sucking, and Combeferre swallowed. “No wonder you like eating me out so much. I’m delicious.”

“In more ways than one,” Combeferre said. Enjolras sat back down at the table finally, holding their steaming mug with the tail of a tea bag trailing out of it. “I’m coming home soon.”

“I won’t be here, remember? Movie night with Marie and Cosette.”

Combeferre nodded. “Right. I’ll just have to entertain myself.”

Laughing, Courfeyrac made a kissing noise. “Love you, darling. Thank you for listening.”

“Anything for you,” Combeferre said. She ended the call and set her phone down on the table, her heart still pounding. She was still twitchy, still wet, and jumped slightly when Enjolras spoke to her.

“What did Courfeyrac want?” They asked, stirring brown sugar into their tea.

“She missed me,” Combeferre said.

“Aww,” Enjolras said. “So, the handout routes-”

* * *

Courfeyrac felt her phone buzz in her pocket when she slipped into the car to drive home from Marie’s. Pulling it out, she saw that Combeferre had left a voicemail for her. She smiled and pressed play, holding it to her ear.

“Darling Antoinette,” her fiancé said in clipped tones. “I am here in an empty house, left unsatisfied from our earlier conversation.” Courfeyrac gulped when she heard a familiar humming sound, one that had been the background noise for their earlier phone call. “Instead of pushing you down onto the bed, straddling your face and taking my pleasure from your filthy mouth, I am forced to press this piece of plastic and metal against my clit. If you get home before I pass out from multiple orgasms, I may let you make it up to me.” She made a little gasping sound, her composure wavering. “Hurry.”


End file.
